Those We Left Behind
by wolfgirlalways
Summary: As long as someone loves us and remembers us, we will always be present. A look at those the BAU left behind and the impact they have had
1. Spencer Reid

A/N i almost hate myself for this. I've been in a criminal minds mood lately and as i was driving him i was listening to the Wreck of the Edmund-Fitzgerald by Gordon Lightfoot. i heard the line "And all that remains is the faces and the names of the wives and the sons and the daughters." and then this happened. so without further ado...

**Those we left behind**

"The pleasure of remembering had been taken from me, because there was no longer anyone to remember with. It felt like losing your co-rememberer meant losing the memory itself, as if the things we'd done were less real and important than they had been hours before."

― John Green

**Spencer Reid**

)(-)(

_Dianna Reid_

Dianna Reid does not get to attend the dedication to the memorial, instead the nice nurses at the sanitarium where she lives set up a private viewing of it on TV with the help of a woman named Penelope Garcia, who had contacted them. At first she doesn't seem to understand as she watches the opening ceremony with a blank face. But, as she catches sight of her son's picture, there lined up with the others, her eyes become eagle sharp. She noticed the red and puffy eyes of those members of the staff that had known and cherished her young genius. Tears form as she watches the men and women talk about how brave her son and his team were, and how many lives they saved. It was truly beautiful, but it did nothing to take away the gut wrenching **_ache_** that cut Dianna right in half. Her son, her light, the best thing in the world, was just gone. Sobs came, as she realized she would never get to hold him close, and feel his heartbeat, so strong so _vital_. She cried not only for herself but for the things he should have had, but now never would. He would never get to give his heart away with marriage, he would never get to hold his child, and feel his heart soar with the new life. He would never get to grow old and retire and watch his own children accomplish their dreams. As the ceremony ended the TV shut off and the nurses left Dianna to her quiet contemplation. As dinner drew nearer however, her doctor came to see her.

"How are you doing Dianna?" He asked hesitantly.

"I'm fine." She answered.

"If you're distressed at all I can give you something to help you relax." He offered his own eyes sad.

"I'm fine." She said with a smile. "My son is an FBI agent you know?" She said with pride in her voice. At the doctors nod she continued. "I hope he has time to visit soon, I have chosen the perfect book to read to him. He's such a good boy, and he's always loved to listen to me read."

"I'm sure Spencer will visit when he can." The doctor answers as his voice breaks.

)(-)(

William Reid wished with everything he had that things had been different. It seemed as if he had only just reconnected with his son, their time had been all too short. He let the tears flow unchecked down his cheeks as he walked to the memorial, lightly tracing his hand over the names of the deceased, only able to put faces to his son and two others. He places the flowers he'd bought at the base of the memorial and left, the tears still flowing.

"At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it."

― Arthur Golden

A/N Let me know what you thought. I plan on doing a chapter with all the others, and one for Garcia about being left behind. And can anyone possibly tell me the name of Rossi's daughter from the newest episode? I cant seem to find it anywhere. Thanks for reading and for anyone who reviews

-wolfgirl


	2. Aaron Hotchner

Those we left behind

"But she wasn't around, and that's the thing when your parents die, you feel like instead of going in to every fight with backup, you are going into every fight alone."

― Mitch Albom

Aaron Hotchner

Jack Hotchner

Jack holds flowers in one hand, and with the other he holds the hand of his wife of four years.

"Hey dad." He said, setting the flowers down at the base of the memorial and running his hand over the name of his father.

"I passed the bar. I'm officially a lawyer, I hope you're proud." Jack falls silent as he remembers all the things that made up his father. He quiet strength, his strong presence, the sense of safety and rightness Jack had always felt when his father would fold him into his arms and tell him things would be alright. It had just been the two of them, after his mom had been taken. And then, it had just been him.

Jack wondered if they would be proud of him. His father had never, not even once, tried to push him to a career. He'd always encouraged Jack, any time he'd declared what he was going to be when he grew up; Even when he wanted to be a pirate. Hotch had shown up the next evening with an eye patch and a couple of swords and they had spent the evening running through the house, fighting over the booty.

Jack treasured those memories.

But he also thought about all those times growing up without a parent. When he graduated and his parents hadn't driven him buts with pictures. His Aunt Jessica and Beth had tried. But they just weren't his mom and dad. He thought of his first day of college, and watching all the moms and dads hug their children goodbye. He remembered his wedding with no dad to give him sage words of wisdom. He'd felt so alone. But looking back over all his accomplishments he had a revelation. He'd never been alone. They'd been there, in his thoughts and actions, in the things they had taught him. They'd been his strength, his determination and his love.

"You remember Erica right dad? I married her four years ago, but sometimes I don't know what she sees in me." He paused. "You're going to be a grandfather. We just found out last week." Tears started pouring down Jack's face, "I'm going to be a dad, and I don't get to ask my dad for advice. I know you would have had something wise to say. You always seemed to know the answers. It's been hard, I still miss you every day. I hope you know that." Erica rubbed her hands across his back.

"He's so amazing. I want you to know that. He's everything you would want him to be, he's strong and brave and best of all, he's gentle. He must have had a hell of a father, to show him how to be a true man." She added, tears slipping from her own eyes. "We both miss you. Happy Birthday Aaron."

)(-)(

Beth

Beth rocks slowly back and forth on the stone bench, holding baby Aaron Hotchner, while Jack and Erica walk down one of the park paths, hand in hand. She still visited Jack, the death of her love and his father had not forced them apart, but had somehow pulled them closer.

She'd been shattered, when the sobbing boy had called her. They'd cried on the phone together for hours, before Beth had pulled herself together long enough to travel to his home to be there. On the plane ride over, she'd thought of Aaron as he'd been in life. The wounded soul, who had the strength to carry on. She would use his example, to come out of this heartbreaking loss, stronger on the other side. And together they would get his son through this.

She stood, holding the baby with one arm, while she kissed her fingers and ran them over the carved stone name. All that remained of the man she'd desperately loved.

"He's everything we dreamed he would be. He's so much like you that sometimes it hurts, but I love your son all the more for it."

With one last lingering look she turned and walked away.

"We are all the pieces of what we remember. We hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss."

― Cassandra Clare

A/N tannerose5 asked if i planned to address what happened. I wasn't planning on writing about it in the story as I want this to focus mostly on who were left behind. But here's what i'm thinking. They all died together, and in doing so saved countless lives. The thought that keeps running through my head is that some kind of terrorist has placed a bomb on the plane and is piloting the plane by remote, like in the episode a thousand suns. They manage to gain enough control and are faced with the choice, crash the plane, or allow it to reach it's detonation and harm others, so they choose to crash the plane. I don't plan on writing the story however. Thanks for your reviews and for reading


	3. Kate Callahan

"You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."  
― J.K. Rowling

Life was not fair. She knew that as the daughter of two courageous souls, who had lost their lives in the attacks on September 11th. She knew it as the little girl who had been raised not by her mother but by her loving aunt. She knew it, when others presented their mothers with mother's day cards and she took hers to a grave of a woman she wouldn't even know but for pictures and her aunt's stories.

And she knew it as the niece who had stood bravely at her aunt's memorial service, and mourned the woman who had raised her with love and compassion. She leaned against her uncle and bitterly mourned the true end of her childhood. Because without a doubt, she knew, that life just wasn't fair.

But it could be _good_. _She_ could _be_ the good. So she mourned, and then she went on. Because one day, as she lay on her bed crying on a picture taken just after her birth, her mother laying in a hospital bed holding her in her arms and her aunt leaning on the bed her arms around them both, as they smiled at the camera, she realized that neither of the woman in her life would want her to stop living. She hated the phrase moving on, because she didn't. She didn't move on from the wonderful example of the two best women in her life, but she did _go_ on. She lived each day trying to be as good and smart and brave as them. And she lived each day, hoping to be that woman for someone else.

Now she stood watching as her daughter laid flowers on her aunt's memorial and thought about her life.

"Meg, they'd be proud." Her uncle stated.

"I know." Meg said. And she did. She'd studied hard and graduated as a child psychologist emphasizing on trauma and abuse. She felt their pride and happiness when she succeeded and a child left her office a shaky smile on their face and the ability to cope with another day, another nightmare, another fear. And almost more importantly, she felt it when she had a hard day and she felt she hadn't succeeded, she felt their love then, and knew she could move on from this too, and she could do more good.

"I miss her." Her uncle said in a broken whisper. And Meg knew that too. Because he had never married again, he'd never even looked at another female the way he'd looked at his wife. They'd weathered on the storm that grief had made of their lives together. And their bond was stronger than ever.

"She's still around." Meg told him.

Her uncle nodded and put an arm around Meg's shoulders as they watched Meg's husband chase her daughter as she laughed and streaked away, her brown curls flying behind her. Prove that though life wasn't fair, it did move on. And it could be so, so **_good_**.

"Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them."  
― Leo Tolstoy

"...we are all sorry when loss comes for us. The test of our character comes not in how many tears we shed but in how we act after those tears have dried."  
― Michelle Moran

A/N.

I never forgot this story, life happened. It doesn't seem that it's been three quarters of a year since I last published in this story, and I deeply apologize for the wait. I have moved three times since I the last chapter, across three states, then again to a whole new city, and again to another new home. I quit the job i worked at for years, got a new one, quit again to move and found a new job that is scary and terrifying and so so rewarding. I have also dealt with personal highs and lows and I'm hoping to return to this, because I love it. This story resonated with me, like it always has. That being said, this chapter didn't turn out at all like I was planning. But the more I thought about it the less I wanted to change it. I don't know Meg like I would like, we got only one season with her but i hope i was able to do her character justice. Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope you have enjoyed the newest chapter.

-wolfgirl


	4. Derek Morgan

Those we left behind

"I live in a world without magic or miracles. A place where there are no clairvoyants of shapeshifters, no angels or superhuman boys to save you. A place where people die and music disintegrates and things suck. I am pressed so hard against the earth by the weight of reality that some days I wonder how I am still able to lift my feet and walk."

― Katja Millay

Derek Morgan

Sarah Morgan watched as her younger sister sat amid a pile of papers.

"Have you thought about who you want to give you away?" Desiree's fiancé said from his position in the doorway.

"Only two men in my life would have the right to give me away. Since neither of them could be here, I am going to give myself away." She paused. "Derek would be proud of it."

"He would be." Fran agreed from her chair where she sat, the open book of plans on her lap.

"He always wanted us to know that we could be strong. But we always knew he would be there, no matter what."

Fran smiled. "He was one of the good ones." She said with a sigh, looking at his picture on the mantel.

"I wish I could have met him." Daniel said. He looked surprised when both girls looked at each other and snorted.

"What?"

"You wouldn't have been saying that if you had. He tended to go way overboard when he went all papa bear on our dates."

"Do you remember when I brought home my first date?" Sarah asked.

"What happened?" He asked the laughing women.

"Derek was a high school freshman that threatened my senior date." Sarah said amidst her laughter. "Conner was good about it though. He listened to what Derek had to say, and agreed to have me home by curfew."

"He worked so hard to keep us safe." Fran said with a sigh. "He was one of the best men I knew."

Daniel looked thoughtful for a moment, before sitting next to Desiree and pulling an invitation out. Stuffing it in the envelope he pulled out the colored markers she had been using to address them, and wrote her brother's name on it.

"What's that?" Desiree asked.

"I want him to know he's welcome. Without him you wouldn't be the woman I love. He should be there." He said, setting the invitation against the picture.

They all eyed it for a few moments before Desiree spoke. "You're pretty amazing you know, I knew there was something I loved about you."

Sarah observed aloud. "Lovey dovey-ness aside you know he would be there anyway, invited or not. You can't keep that man away from those he loves."

"He's stubborn alright." Fran agreed. "He gets that from his father."

"When those you love die, the best you can do is honor their spirit for as long as you live. You make a commitment that you're going to take whatever lesson that person or animal was trying to teach you, and you make it true in your own life... it's a positive way to keep their spirit alive in the world, by keeping it alive in yourself."

― Patrick Swayze


	5. Jennifer Jareau

A/N To those still following this story I have to apologize deeply for the wait on this story and thank you for your patience. I couldn't seem to be happy with the chapters I was writing, they didn't seem to do the story justice. I actually cleaned off an old laptop and found Derek's. I realized I liked it more than I thought that I had. JJ's, however, was crap and the only thing I kept from it was the quote at the end. But as I contemplated this story this chapter happened in my head and seemed to write itself. I also was to clarify that if this story happened while Kate was on the team that Michael would never have been born.

_"Memories of that which we have lost are curious things - weeks, months, even years may pass without recollection of them and then, quite suddenly, something will remind us of a lost friend, or of a favourite possession that has been mislaid or destroyed, and then we think: Yes, that is what I have had and I have no longer"_

― Alexander McCall Smith

Emma looked from her dad to and then over to her mother. Her father noted the look of confusion on her face and sighed internally. His little girl had begun that phase where she had a question about everything and never seemed quite satisfied with her answers.

True to prediction she took a deep breath in preparation.

"Daddy, why don't you have a mommy?" The question was not what he had been expecting and came as a punch in the gut.

She looked at her father curiously as he floundered for a few moments. Just as his wife was opening her mouth to answer for him, their little girl continued.

"Mommy calls gramma Lisa mom, and she calls grandpa Frank dad, and they always are together, like you and mommy are. But Grandpa Will is always alone. And you always call him dad." His brilliant child pointed out the facts.

"I do have a mom." Henry said slowly. Even after all this time he hasn't been able to refer to her in the past tense.

"Then where is she? Does she not want to come visit me?" Emma asked. Henry scooped his little girl into his arm and hugged her tightly.

"Of course she does. More than anything."

"So why doesn't she?"

Henry paused for a long time, thinking before he answered.

"Do you remember Waggles?" Henry asked. "How he loved you very much, but he had to go away." Emma nodded solemnly. "My mom had to go away too."

"Why?" Emma asked, remembering how hard it had been when her dog had left.

"Sometimes you don't have a choice. And we don't always understand why."

"Do you miss her like I miss Waggles?" Emma asked.

"Everyday." Henry answered quietly. "But people we love are always with us."

"How?" Emma asked, looking around the room for this mysterious grandma.

"Can you smile for me?" Henry asked. Emma eyed her father curiously before complying with a blindingly bright smile.

"It's there. In your smile. It's exactly the same." Henry told her. "And I always feel her love. In my heart."

"Like when you tell me you love me on the phone and it feels like a hug?"

"Exactly like that." He confirmed.

"what did she look like?"

"Do you want to see some pictures?" Henry's wife, Sara, asked her daughter, tears in her eyes from the conversation. Emma nodded eagerly. Soon she was sitting, sandwiched between her parents, a big leather book on her lap. On the cover was a picture of Jennifer and Will on their wedding day.

"She's so beautiful." Emma whispered in awe.

"She sure is." Sara answered.

"Is that Grandpa Will?"

"He looks younger doesn't he?" Henry said with a low chuckle. They began flipping through the pages slowly as Henry talked about his mother. Halfway through the tears began to flow, but he kept talking.

The pictures ranged from solo photos, to family photos, to photos with a team she had worked with. Henry told his daughter about his Uncle Spence, and the magic tricks he had learned.

"That's Aunt Pen." Emma declared in surprise at one of the team photos.

"Yeah, she worked with your grandma."

"Does she miss her too?"

"Of course." Henry answered.

When he flipped to a picture of the memorial sight, and the flowers present she spoke again. "That's a lot of flowers. What do they mean?"

"People leave flowers for people they love when they are gone."

"A lot of people must have loved her, with so many flowers." Emma observed.

"She was easy to love." Henry whispered.

"Can I buy her flowers and take them to her?" Emma asked.

Unable to answer Henry simply nodded.

"Of course sweetie. Her birthday is soon. We'll take her the biggest prettiest bunch of flowers we can find then." Sara assured her daughter. Emma smiled brilliantly as she ran her fingers over her grandmother's smile in the picture.

Before she could flip another page the doorbell rang, startling them all.

"I'll get it." Henry said climbing to his feet, and scrubbed at his face. "It's your grandpa Will."

"I should go check on dinner." Sara said, also standing from the couch. They left Emma flipping through the photos. She was so focused on the book that she missed the sound of her grandpa entering the room.

"What is that you have?" He asked.

"Grandpa." She shrieked happily as she launched herself into his arms.

"Hello Emma." Her grandpa said, a laugh in his voice.

"Grandpa, we are going to take gramma flowers for her birthday. Will you come too?" Emma asked.

Her grandfather's eyes landed on the open book, where his beloved wife was immortalized with a smile on her face, their infant son in her arms. His eyes softened.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." He vowed.

"Daddy says that he misses her every day. But that she is around when I smile." Emma informed him matter of fact, smiling to show him.

"I've always though so." Will managed to get out, overwhelmed by the moment.

"Dinner's ready. Emma wash up." Sara's voice called from the kitchen. Emma shimmied from her grandpa's arms to the ground before racing up the stairs. She halted when she heard him talk.

"I will always miss you, cher" Her grandpa told the photo as he traced her face. Something quiet and warm wrapped around the room and Emma understood a bit what her father said, about feeling her love around them. She smiled, just for her grandmother, and headed upstairs to wash up.

_"No matter how much he talked, she never answered him, but he knew she was still there."_

― Pat Cunningham Devoto


End file.
